Love and Hurt
by Karma1987
Summary: An Emily Gilmore one shot. 3 days after the plane timeshare talk Emily struggles with her feelings of loss and the memories it brings back.


**Disclaimer: The characters belong to their rightful owners A S-P and warner Bros and Netflix and anyone else. These are just 3 am ideas that come tumbling out.**

 **Love and Hurt**

The saying goes that love and hate are two sides of the same coin, for her it was love and hurt. Emily Gilmore was not a woman who could hate the people she loved, but they could hurt her and she had hurt them. Especially when it came to her girls. It was the love that she felt for them that hurt so acutely at times she couldn't bear it. She had always thought as a young woman that she had understood what love was, it was how loved her husband Richard with every fibre of her being. But it wasn't until she had held her daughter for the first time that she truly understood. That this type of love was a force that governed without condition. Her world was filled with conditions. The love she had for Lorelai was a contradiction to everything she had ever been taught, a contradiction to everything her world was. It was the same with her granddaughter. From the first time she had seen Rory her heart had exploded. There were no two people she loved more in the world. There were no two people who could hurt her like they could.

It had been 3 days since she had last spoken to Lorelai. Her daughter had told her she hadn't lost Rory, she had told her she hadn't lost her. 3 days without contact stung of loss, and it was compounded by Richard's anger at the way things had been handled by Rory. When Emily had struggled to get up yesterday, he'd snapped at her and told her to stop being silly because they would come back, that they always did. Richard only snapped at her when he was hurt. He was just as scared as she was that they wouldn't come back. The waiting for them to come back hurt, the fear along with all the other jumbled feelings that she was never able to articulate or fully comprehend felt like it was forcing itself out of her skin, trying to crack her open, as her stomach rumbled with swarms of wasps and her heart felt like it was being squeezed by a vice. Emily forced herself to exhale, her lungs were constricted by an unseen corset. She was supposed to be reading but her eyes couldn't focus on the words. She was too preoccupied by the hurt that bought memories, happy memories that stung as much as the bad memories, the awful memories where she wished she could reach back into the past and stop herself from saying or doing something. Her brain hurt from the jumble of 37 years of memories. She hurt because she loved them too much.

The first time she'd felt the hurt it had not been caused by something that Lorelai had done. The first hurt had been caused by Richard's mother when baby Lorelai had been 3 weeks old and the woman had finally found the time to come and see her granddaughter. That had been Emily's fault of course, had the baby come at the time she was supposed to then the original Lorelai could have seen them within days, but baby Lorelai had been a week late, and that hadn't fit into the older woman's plans. Baby Lorelai was perfect and Emily had been in a little bubble of bliss since the moment she had held her. It hadn't mattered that her body was permanently changed or that she was exhausted and sore. She had her little girl and that was all that mattered, until that horrible woman had come and stated that baby Lorelai looked like she was mainly Gilmore, which was a good thing and not to worry the next one would be a boy. The words had been crushing. It was the first time that Emily had learned how her love could cause her pain. It had been made worse when the elder Lorelai held the baby and baby had screamed in protest. "Oh she does takes after her mother then" had been slap in the face.

Maybe it was true that Lorelai was like her but that was what she wanted, her own little girl that she could guide and mould. Lorelai didn't like to be guided, or moulded, and for a while none of that had been a problem, because how could you be annoyed at an adorable wild haired child who smiled whenever she saw you and giggled in delight when you scooped her into your arms. Lorelai was capable of such love and such compassion as a young child. When Emily had been suffering from a different type of pain, her two year old daughter had sat on the bathroom floor with her, stroking her arm and to try and make her feel better. She had only left her alone when the phone had rung. When the toddler answered the call, her husband had got home as soon as he was physically able, he had called Lorelai a good girl as he had scooped Emily off the floor. She wasn't a good girl, she was the best girl.

Even when the child was herself in pain she was the best girl. Only Emily could take the pain in her ears away. Only Mommy would do. Lorelai had clung to her, her damp forehead pressed into Emily's shoulder, her fingers gripping tightly. Lorelai had clung on until Mommy had sung the pain away. Only Mommy could make her feel better. Only Lorelai could make Emily feel better. Lorelai had found her three more times before she was four years old. Each time she had run and got the maid, or if they were by themselves called Daddy to come to their rescue. Lorelai would sit with her and hold her hand tight and try and kiss Mommy better. By the time Lorelai was five they were told not to try again. Lorelai became so much more precious. Richard had had to leave for a lengthy business trip days after they were told. Emily had needed him and he had to go. Lorelai had made her dance in the garden in the rain. They had clutched each other's hands and Lorelai had begged to be spun around. They had spun until they fell over. The rain hid the tears on Emily's cheeks, her shuddering shoulders had told another story and Lorelai had held her tight, kissing Mommy better.

Besides that, their life before Lorelai was ten had been exactly as they planned it. Richard worked, Emily supported him and moved in the circle she was supposed to. She did everything that she was supposed to, just as she had been taught. When Lorelai rebelled or was stubborn or didn't want to wear a dress or comb her hair or go to a party. Emily would look at her sternly and tell her off. Just like she was supposed to. But any upset had been fixable by a kiss and a cuddle, by a book read at bed time. It changed as Lorelai grew up, it blew up when Lorelai didn't want to go to the school they had picked for her. Ten and a half was when the tellings off became arguments. That was when Lorelai had learnt that pushing Emily away was a way to make Mommy hurt. Except by then she wasn't Mommy, she was Mom or worse, Mother. There was no more books read at bedtime. They didn't kiss, they didn't cuddle. They talked and neither listened, so they yelled to make the other hear, and then a door slammed, and Emily cried, except she had no one to kiss it better because Richard had retreated into a bubble of ignorance. His bubble shielded him from the anger and hurt he felt about how his bright bubbly daughter who had adored him, had turned against him and his world. Trix had told him it was Emily's fault that the girl was uncontrollable. Emily worried he believed his mother. But through all the upset and fights every once in a while their Lorelai was there. It had thrilled her when on her 40th birthday Lorelai had awoken especially early to give her a gift. The gift in the box had been a glass rose. The hug and kiss that had come with the box had been the real gift. It was the first time they had embraced like that in two years. They had never embraced like that since.

When they found out Lorelai was pregnant Emily had felt numb and then the crushing realisation of her failure had nearly flattened her. But she couldn't flatten. Lorelai needed her. Richard needed her. The night they found out was one of the few times she had seen her husband cry. Other than when his mother died, He only cried when babies where involved, only once had they been happy tears. The fact that their daughter was pregnant at 15 that she would become a mother at only 16 was incomprehensible to him. It was incomprehensible to both of them. Their failure as parents hurt. The sight of their little girl having to grow up too soon hurt. Emily had tried to be as supportive she could. When Lorelai's clothes got too small she replaced them with exact copies the next size up so Lorelai could still look the same until it became impossible to hide. She bought her books about pregnancy. When Lorelai grumbled, Emily made soft comments that she was here if she wanted to talk. But Lorelai never did. When Emily could hear Lorelai crying through the bedroom door she had knocked and asked to come in. But the door was never opened. They were following the plan. Poor useless Christopher and his parents and Richard. Emily had agreed to it as well, it what was supposed to happen. When you get pregnant you get married. Except Lorelai didn't want to, Lorelai hadn't agreed. Some nights the yelling went on for hours. Richard stayed in his office. He never yelled. It was always Emily and Lorelai yelling. Her daughter yelled at her because she was trying to help. Lorelai didn't want her help, she didn't want her. This scared confused little girl was lashing out and she was lashing out at her because Emily was the only one who tried. Lorelai was too old for Mommy to kiss it better. Lorelai was too young to understand how much she was hurting everyone around her. Emily was too young to face being a grandma. Emily was too old to retreat like a child, but she did because she was too hurt to try any harder, too scared of what would happen if she did.

Only once during her pregnancy did Lorelai let Emily in. It was the one time that Emily had forced it. It was the one time she tried harder. She had done it because she'd had to. Lorelai had looked so miserable and had been trying not to cry. Emily was driving, she had control. She could take Lorelai somewhere, could keep her away from the house that was becoming her daughter's prison for bit longer. She took her shopping. Emily was good at shopping. It was a good distraction. Lorelai had looked at her like she was insane. She had started to snipe that Emily had already bought the baby everything. The panic that had risen in Emily's throat had been excruciating. The thought of arguing on the street. Unbearable. But Emily had found her voice. A theme; the nursey lacked a theme. It had worked. They went shopping and the nursey gained the theme of ducks. It was a silly theme. It was what Lorelai wanted. This time Emily could give her what she wanted. Afterwards they had had tea in a cafe and Lorelai had shared her cake with her. They had talked, shared stories, and laughed. It was the one time they let their guards down. It was the one time they had been like friends. It was the only time they had been like friends.

The three weeks after, there had been no fighting, they had fallen into an uneasy pattern of acceptance. Until that night. The night the Hayden's came to discuss arrangements. The plan would commence as soon as affairs could be arranged. The argument had gone on for hours. When Lorelai finally stormed upstairs she had stared over her shoulder with such hate that Emily had felt like she had been stabbed. She thought that night was her greatest failing. Two nights later she found the note. Her daughter had gone off by herself to give birth. Emily had called every cab company until she found the one who had driven her daughter to a hospital. Each call had made her angrier. When she found Lorelai she couldn't contain it. She had yelled at her panting daughter being wheeled through a hospital corridor. She had wanted to be in the room. The nurse had stopped her. Richard had agreed. He had made her sit in that uncomfortable plastic chair. Only when he fell asleep was Emily able to get out of the seat. She had stood at the door and tried to listen. She had hurt herself that night. It was her own fault she was outside the door. It was that night that was her greatest failing. Rory was half an hour old before Emily was told she had been born. She should have been in the room and been there the second she'd arrived. When Lorelai slept Emily had stood staring through the window of the nursey at her granddaughter until she hadn't been able to feel her feet. When Lorelai awoke she had reluctantly allowed Richard and Emily to hold the baby. Emily had smiled and Lorelai had too. Holding the baby felt good.

When they went home, they went home as a family. They took that tiny baby back to a room filled with ducks and a house filled with love. And somehow the plan got forgotten. A wedding didn't get planned, Christopher didn't move in. They found a new normal. For a brief window their changed world was a good world. But it couldn't last. As Lorelai grew in confidence as a mother she did more for herself. She resented the nannies that Emily hired so she could finish her studies. She resented everything that Emily did. So Emily fought back because holding the baby felt good. It felt like a second chance. But it wasn't a second a chance. That chance could never come. Emily was Grandma not Mommy. Lorelai liked to remind her of that. Her daughter's words had been like knives. It made her long for dancing in the rain.

When Lorelai ran from them Emily had stayed awake for four straight days, hoping that the phone would ring. The police had said there was nothing they could do. Lorelai had turned 18 the month before. She was an adult. It didn't matter that Rory was only one, she was with her adult mother. They would just have to hope she would come home. Emily had lost all hope when Christopher had called. Lorelai had called him, to say she was safe, to tell him where she was so he could see Rory. He wouldn't tell them where Lorelai was. He would only tell them that Lorelai didn't want to see them. The wasps had been hornets that day and they had burst from her, the vice had crushed her heart, her lungs were collapsed by the corset and she had broken into a million pieces. It took Emily a month to be able to breathe again. She had never put the pieces back together.

On Rory's second birthday Emily had packed up the ducks. Lorelai's room was left like a shrine but Emily couldn't bear to see ducks. It was a month after that that they first had contact. Hearing Lorelai's voice had been like holding her for the first time again. The call made her yearn for them even more. The call contained no details just that they were safe. The next call a month later gave them more because Rory had chattered to her in nonsensical toddler talk before bursting into song. Singing hadn't made things better this time but it made Emily hurt less. It was a year after the first call before they saw them. Lorelai finally invited them to where she worked. They had sat in the lobby of the inn where everyone could see them. Lorelai had worn her maids outfit. The meeting had been minutes because Lorelai was on a break. Rory had stared at these two strangers solemnly, but the child had allowed herself to be positioned on Emily's knee. She wasn't a baby but holding her still felt good. Ten minutes wasn't enough. Emily had cried the whole way home. That time it took her a week to breathe.

When the girls finally came to the house in the Christmas of 1988 Emily learned that she could be hurt by her granddaughter. The little girl had looked at her with confusion, not sure who the stranger who showered her with presents was and she asked her mother why they were having dinner in a museum. Lorelai had stared at her with defiant eyes, challenging Emily to tell Rory off. But Emily hadn't told her off. She hadn't done anything. Instead Richard had crouched in front of Rory and explained that this was their house and she was welcome anytime and that sometimes families had to be apart but that they loved her very much. When the girls had left, Richard retreated to his study. Emily sat in the garden in the rain.

The pattern continued for 12 years before she finally got them properly back and even then Emily made the same mistakes. The words came out the wrong way and Lorelai pushed her away so the guards went up. And Emily didn't try because when she did try she got hurt. She had had too much hurt. Rory helped the hurt. The hugs given freely, the books whilst not read at bed time eagerly discussed. The little acceptances of their world. Emily's love grew and slowly she got closer to Lorelai too. Slowly her Lorelai came back, gifts of dvd players and listening to her when she felt lost. But it got ruined, she always ruined it because she pushed too far. And now she had lost them both.

"Mrs Gilmore"

Emily's head jerked up, her hands was empty, the book dropped to the floor. Emily had forgotten the maid was in the house. She had forgotten the woman's name. The maid said her name again, and then said something about a delivery. There were flowers in the woman's hand and suddenly they were in Emily's. Three yellow flowers tied together by a white silk ribbon. A sunflower, a daisy and a rose. There was no card, but she knew who had sent them. This time she didn't need a note. It wasn't a kiss, but it made her feel better. Emily took a deep breath, the corset had been undone. The wasps started to feel like butterflies. The flowers were wet and Emily looked towards the patio. It was raining, but she didn't need to sit outside.


End file.
